I have seen your heart
by Nargles.ARE.Real
Summary: Ron POV of Horcrux encounter...


I have seen your heart…

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter more than Harry owns a crumple-horned snorkack.

_Ron was shaking, and Harry realized it wasn't from the cold._

_His eyes were no longer scarlet, but back to blue, but they were wet too._

_Harry put a hand on his shoulder, and thought it a good sign he didn't shake it off._

_(Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, US Version, The Silver Doe, Not word for word- I was going by memory…)_

Ron fell to the ground as the words that were just emitted from the horcrux swam in his brain. '_Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter'_ No, NO! He thought. This couldn't be true! '_Least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend.'_ Always, in the back of his mind had he thought that, but never had he had his fears confirmed. Of course Hermione wouldn't love him. '_You are nothing, nothing, to him.'_ Of course he wasn't. How could he compare to famous Harry Potter? The Chosen One? Oh, that's right. He couldn't. Tears streaming down his face, trying to hide the fact from Harry, he felt the worst he had in months. The last time he felt this way was when dementors had passed by. And that could barley compare to this. Resisting the urge to curl up into a fetal position, Ron sat there, in shock. He couldn't move. Not after a blow like this. He couldn't, no, he wouldn't go back to that tent. Not with the girl he loved in there, while he knew she had eyes for his mate. He couldn't breathe. Knowing he couldn't move on. Sitting there, wallowing in self pain just made it worse. He wanted to leave, he wanted to run! He didn't want to be in a war, but then, who did? He felt the smallest urge to be a girl, so this behavior would be justified. Moments after thinking this, he felt a hand upon his shoulder. Harry. Who had helped him when his wand backfired? Who had helped him limp from the Shrieking Shack? Who had comforted Hermione while in tears? Of course he would be there now. Ron didn't dare shake off his hand. Not when this was his one tie back down to earth. Had Harry seen him cry? Would he think less of him now? Ron turned his head from Harry. "After you left," Harry finally said, "she cried for a week. Probably longer but she didn't want me to see. There were loads of nights where we didn't even speak to each other. With you gone…" Harry trailed off. Hermione had cried? But how could that be? She didn't care about him. Who could care about him? Harry continued, "She's like my sister. I love her like a sister, and I reckon she feels the same way." What? But no, this couldn't be… His worst fears confirmed only to have them denied again? Ron didn't know what to think anymore. At least, he thought, at least Harry loves her, but like a sister. I may still have a chance! But she couldn't love him like a brother… maybe Ron, but not 'The boy who lived.' More like the boy who escaped by the seat of his pants. No! Stop! This is Harry we're talking about! This whole inner battle took about 5 seconds on Ron's part when Harry continued. "I thought you knew that." No. Ron almost said aloud. No I didn't. He forced himself not to shake his head. How could he have known? With everything going on… and him and Hermione always bickering… how could anyone have known? Well, Ron thought gloomily, something occurring to him now, now Harry knows I love her. Well, in love with her is more like it. Great. Ron wiped his nose loudly against his sleeve. No point trying to hide it now. Ron got to his feet while Harry went to go get his discarded rucksack. Harry finally looked him in the eyes while passing it back to him, and Ron thought he may have noticed they were bloodshot. In a thick voice, Ron finally got out "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left. I know I was a— a—" Ron couldn't think of a word to describe how he felt about this. Git? Prat? Jerk? As Ginny once called him, Hypocrite? He looked around as though the earth would supply him with a bad word. "You've sort of made up for it tonight." Harry said. "Getting the sword, finishing off the Horcrux," Ron shuddered involuntarily, "saving my life." Harry finished. Mumbling, Ron said "That makes me sound a lot cooler than I was." "Stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was." Harry told him "I've been trying to tell you that for years." Ron felt a fresh wave of guilt sweep over him. He now knew how Harry felt trying to tell them it wasn't so cool fighting for your life against Vol… You-Know-Who. As though planned, they both walked together and hugged. As they broke apart Harry said in an oh-so-obvious voice "And now… all we've got to do is find the tent again." It turned out it wasn't that hard. Although Ron had no idea where he was going, it seemed Harry did. Harry, from the look of it, seemed to be enjoying Ron's company, and maybe that made the time go by faster. Harry seemed eager to get back inside the tent, while Ron, nervous as ever, stayed behind a little, not wanting to face the object of his affection, his best friend, Hermione Granger-the know it all, just yet. Harry had to say her name a few times before she arose. "Hermione!" She quickly sat up and pushed the hair out of her eyes, as to see better. "What's wrong Harry? Are you alright?" Of course she asks that first. Ron was thinking more and more that Harry was wrong about that whole 'like a brother' thing. Pushing that aside he caught onto the end of Harry's sentence. "…There's someone here." "What do you mean?" Hermione was automatically on edge and ready. "Who-?" But she then caught sight of Ron, standing there, soaked to the bone, and holding the sword of Gryffindor. Harry started backing away, into the shadows, and it looked oddly like he was trying to blend into the wall. Hermione finally slid off her bunk, and still a little asleep, hobbled towards Ron, her eyes looking right at him. He smiled big and half raised his arms. He didn't know why, maybe expecting a hug? Maybe ready to protect himself. It seemed the latter was needed, for Hermione then threw herself forwards and started punching every bit of his body she could find. "Ouch — Ow — gerroff! What the — ? Hermione — OW!" She was most definitely stronger then she looked. It was like feeling the wrath of the canaries all over again, except this was somewhat better. She had to touch him to punch him.

"You — complete — _arse _— Ronald — Weasley!" Each word had a punch in between. "You — crawl — back — here — after — weeks — and — weeks — oh, _where's my wand?_"

Bloody Hell. I guess everything's back to normal around here.

A/N Alright, well I hope you liked it. This is my first, not crappy, HP fic. The rest are on a different account that I am trying to hide from all eyes xD I think Ron should run. I haven't read Deathly Hallows since it came out years ago, and as I was re-reading all the books, I was trying to quote something from DH and came across how Ron reacted after the Horcrux encounter, and it made me want to write this from his POV. Alright well R&R Please… or I'll send Hermione after you next!

PS: The 'escaped by the seat of his pants' thing is NOT mine. It is one of the things the portrait of Salazar Slytherin says at the Wizarding world of Harry Potter in Orlando, Florida. (pss: best theme park in a theme park EVER.)


End file.
